Page 75 of Never Beguile a Duke
Millimeters separated them.
“I smell it every time I close my eyes.”
His mouth captured hers, his arms winding around her as his tongue darted past her lips. He deepened the kiss, drawing the delightful mewling sound from Miss Fernsby-Webb, and dragged her onto his lap.
She straddled him, her body grinding against his through the flimsy nightgown.
“I want my turn,” he ground out, breaking the kiss and stilling her hips.
“Your turn?” Fire blazed in her brown eyes, turning them to molten chocolate.
“To seduce you.” He nuzzled her neck. “Although I’d prefer my bedchamber to the staircase.”
“Is this an attempt to sway my mind toward the governess position?” she asked, her head tipping back as he trailed a line of kisses across her throat.
He pulled back. “Would that be a terrible thing?”
“Governesses don’t typically have relations with their employers.” She raised her eyebrows. “Think of the impropriety.”
“Who would know but the two of us?”
She ticked off her fingers. “Your servants. Your daughter. My sister, and by connection, the Duke of Roxburghe, who would then inform your friends.”
“None of whom would share that information with the ton.” He bumped his nose against hers. “If that concern is the only reason preventing you from accepting a governess position, I would swear never to touch you again.”
Unless you begged…
Her eyebrows floated near her hairline. “Is it truly that easy for you?”
“It would be torture,” he replied, adding a half-smile. “And I would endure the agony in silence.”
There was another solution, one neither of them mentioned, and even though Silas found himself amenable toward the idea of a marriage to Miss Fernsby-Webb, she’d clearly stated matrimony was not her aim.
“However, since you’re currently a guest and not an employee, I’d like to return to the earlier topic of seduction.” He cupped her face, brushing his thumb across her lower lip. “My bed is much more comfortable than a chair.”
“Does your bed provide the same pleasure?” she asked, shifting on his lap.
“More,” he groaned, his pants tightening uncomfortably around his manhood. “Although if you keep moving like that, we may not make it to my bedchamber.”
Her mouth rounding to an ‘o’, she crawled backward off his lap and stood on the third step from the landing.
Rising, Silas held out his hand. She took it without any hesitation, and he led her into his chamber and locked the door, leaving the key in the keyhole.
“Only a precaution,” he said, lifting her hand to his lips. “You may leave at any time.”
“May I stay as long as I wish as well?”
Yes!
“At some point tomorrow, your sister will come searching for you.” He dragged the shawl from her shoulders and pooled the material on the edge of the desk.
Miss Fernsby-Webb blushed. “I only meant that I intended to hide here until Mr. Hollingsworth departed from your property.”
“That’s not an argument in favor of expelling the gentleman from my house.” Silas wiggled his eyebrows. “By that statement, I should invite him to live with me.”
Her mouth popped open at Silas’ wicked suggestion. “Y-Your Grace, I cannot remain in your bed indefinitely.”
“I suppose not.” He sighed dramatically, then grinned. “However, that’s where you’re going to start this evening.”
